


be wherever you are

by medlli



Series: thunderous flamenco [3]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon Compliant, Confessions, Explanations, F/M, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Frustration, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Spoilers, the end of this rarepair hell series FINALLY, yes again listen man I'm a one trick pony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medlli/pseuds/medlli
Summary: Look at this place, look at your faces.I've never seen you look like thisbefore.





	be wherever you are

**Author's Note:**

> and now for something _completely different_ {song-wise anyway}  
>  but tbh I'm surprised it took me _this_ long to use a SU song for a fic like that's entry level baby fic ideas
> 
> anyway if any of y'all are following _thunderous_ ' sister series { _keen ice_ , it's right [here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/765339)}, that one will be updated next, so stay tuned for its posting within the next ten years lmao
> 
> [blows a kiss at tumblr and twitter] for @[mamudoons](https://twitter.com/mamudoons)/[Noelle](http://www.mamudoons.tumblr.com/)  
> [blows another kiss into the ether] for the anon that has probably been waiting for this " _thrilling_ " conclusion for months

 

 

 

 

 

> ( _they're shining like a thousand shining stars_ )

 

“ _New York_? Just for a _shoot_? Ain’t that kinda far…?”

Despite Sojiro’s protest stating that they were taking up space for the “actual” customers, the complaint had gone unacknowledged when it had become clear that there would not be much business today. Therefore, five of eight gathers in Leblanc, taking over the table nearest the door. Futaba, Makoto, and Ann share one half of the table, Akira and Ryuji taking the other.

Ryuji’s question comes as he’s slouched forward in the booth, making a point of leaning back when Ann decides to assume his pose. He glances away as inconspicuously as possible, unsure if he had imagined the glint in her eye.

He’s almost certain she’d made a point of sitting across from him for this very purpose.

“I used to live overseas; it’s no big deal. What, are you worried about me?” She flashes a grin as her voice takes on its typical teasing tone, pressing her fist to her temple with her elbow on the table. “Are you gonna _miss me_?”

The blond’s expression sours, though he still won’t look her way. “I ain’t worried. I just think it’s pointless. And far.”

She shrugs, dropping her fist to pick up her cup of coffee with both hands, taking a sip. “I don’t decide these things.”

“Hm… I think you should at least be a _little_ worried, Ryuji. New York’s big, and I hear there’s a lot of crime…” Makoto speaks up, fingers to her chin as she thinks. “They’re not going to let you walk around by yourself, are they? You may have lived overseas, but I’m sure they’ll be able to tell you’re not from around there…”

“Well, I’ll be there for a week and a half, but the shoots are only for six days out of that, and I don’t want to stay in my hotel the whole time…” Ann frowns, though her face brightens just seconds later. “Oh! But I should be fine if I have one of you guys with me, right? They said I could bring one other person with me and they’ll cover the extra costs.”

Apart from Makoto and the subject himself, all eyes subtly fall upon Ryuji; he’d been too preoccupied with the designs on the table to take notice.

“A big city like New York? Hard pass. It was a quest in and of itself to get used to Tokyo; I don’t think I can manage unfamiliar countries just yet,” Futaba says, her gaze now very obviously fixed on the oblivious blond.

“I promised Boss I’d help out at the café this week, so you’ll have to count me out.” Akira follows Futaba’s lead after he makes his case.

“I’d love to go, but I have to help Yusuke with his exhibit at the end of this week… I have to help him set up for the first day, along with Haru.” Makoto is the third to look to Ryuji, unaware of what the other three had done.

Finally sensing the multiple pairs of eyes upon him, he looks up, exchanging glances with everyone as surprise flits across his face. “Wh-what? You want _me_ to go with you? Why don’t you take Morgana? I’m sure he’d love to go with you and be your ‘knight in shining armour’ the whole time too.”

Ann’s expression dropped, eyes half-lidded as she gives him a look that questions his intelligence; she spots out of the corner of her eye that Akira hadn’t been able to suppress mirroring the expression she currently wears. “How am I gonna convince them to let me bring a _cat_? C’mon, it’ll be fun! You can help me get everyone some great souvenirs too.”

“What, so I’m just gonna help you carry all your shit the whole time?” He grumbles as he folds his arms over his chest.

“Not just that, Blondie! You gotta protect her too! I’m sure American thugs got nothin’ on you! They’ll be running for the hills when they’re hit with your **Intimidate** ability!”

“… Is that s’possed to be a compliment?” Ryuji’s face contorts with confusion at her “rousing” speech.

“She has a point, though. Besides Akira and myself, you’re the only other one who has the best chance of holding their own should anything happen.” The brunette frowns, brow furrowing with concern. “Do you really not want to go? It doesn’t seem like you have any pertinent obligations…”

Whatever hopes he may have had in Akira to get him out of being cornered like this are quickly dashed; the only answer he receives from his best friend is a patient but _expectant_ look. “Okay, alright, fine! I’ll go with ya to your stupid shoot. But I better get my own souvenir from you too.”

“Oh, count on it.”

It had been just his luck to shift his stare over to Ann at that very moment, unable to truly doubt the meaning behind her viciously flirtatious wink. The mysterious smirk that simultaneously curls over her lips from behind the cup has him hot under the collar.

The clearing of his throat and the blush consuming his complexion does not go unnoticed by anyone at the table.

“Q-Quit messin’ around,” he huffs, narrowing his eyes at her in accusation. “I’m serious.”

‘ _Me too, you idiot._ ’ She merely quirks her eyebrow in response, leaving her piece left unsaid. “We leave the day after tomorrow,” she states instead, tabling her cup now that its contents lay empty. “I actually have to start packing.” She slides out of the booth, waving to everyone and smiling when they (save for Ryuji) return the gesture.

“I’ll text you what time to meet me at my place, alright? Make sure you’re on time; we can’t miss our flight!” She gives him a grin as she walks past, her hand dragging over his shoulder with a stroke that is _unmistakably_ a caress. Once the door closes behind her, Ryuji slumps over, arms draped across his face as his forehead meets the table.

“A-Are you okay!?” Makoto asks immediately, taking Ann’s place in the booth. She reaches out across the table to touch the exposed part of his neck, apologizing when he jolts from the cool contact. Her eyes widen when feeling how hot he is in comparison to her hand. “You sure you’ll be alright going? If you’re sick, maybe you shouldn’t go after all…”

“He’s not. He’s fine,” Akira says on the blond’s behalf, chortling.

“Can’t **Flee** forever, Blondie!” Futaba is quick to cackle, though it dies even faster than it had lived when Akira lifts a knowing eyebrow at her. “Wh-what?” she pouts defensively.

“Say that once you’ve broken your three-week streak avoiding Yusuke,” Ryuji grunts, voice muffled by his impromptu cocoon. He sighs heavily, hands sliding up to grasp at locks of hair. “What was any’a that even about? She’s really been screwin’ with my head lately…”

Akira forces an airy breath through his mouth, a mixture of a laugh and an exasperated sigh. “Don’t think too hard about it. See you in about a week.”

 

* * *

 

He rubs the sleep from his eyes while the moon still hangs in the sky, standing on the outside of Ann’s front door at a _lovely_ and _pleasant_ 04:00. Despite her previous warnings about how early they’d have to be up and out to make their flight, a retort still rests on his tongue to complain about their abysmal start time—it dies while forming in his throat upon seeing her own irritation and petulance about being up before the sun had even poked its head out. At the dour purse of her lips, he can only laugh, the sound low and rough from how tired he is.

She lifts a brow in question at its tone, ultimately saving her comments to herself in the interest of time… and exhaustion. “They should be here any minute now… I’m surprised you made it on time.”

“Yeah, well… gettin’ yelled at by everyone for not comin’ with you on your trip ain’t exactly my idea of fun,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck purely out of habit.

She chuckles through her weariness, appreciative of his compliance when he doesn’t move after she slumps against him.

They both fall asleep on the drive to the airport, the dyed blond the first to open his eyes before they’d reached their destination. It takes him a few moments to process his surroundings, discovering that her head rests upon his shoulder, her jaw slightly slack as she snores lightly. He takes a glance at the rearview mirror to risk locking eyes with their chauffer, satisfied when nothing of the sort occurs.

He wipes at the corner of Ann’s mouth with his thumb, the slight trail of drooling evidence preemptively erased from her records before she had the chance to know it was ever there to begin with. He nearly questions her intent as his heart races again, but a head resting on a shoulder is innocent enough to convince himself she’s merely testing their boundaries.

Ryuji pats her face gently but firmly once the car rolls to its final stop, freezing in place when she murmurs under her breath and scoots in closer to her makeshift pillow. The scowl he aims at the sleeping beauty startles the chauffer, leaving he pair to their own devices for a few minutes more.

“Ann. _Ann_. We’re here. Wake up.”

A few soft shakes shift against her own shoulder, discontent grumbles and growls rumbling in her throat as she comes to. “ _What_?” she yawns, eyes in an angry squint as awareness gradually returns to her. “Oh my god! We’re here! Ryuji, c’mon or we’re gonna be late!”

He opens his mouth to protest the hypocrisy of her statement contrasting the fact that _she_ is the one who nearly insists on staying asleep, but it isn’t worth bickering quite this early. Instead, he merely follows her orders, hefting both suitcases out of the trunk, the chauffer swift to express his appreciation.

After a few glance overs to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind, the pair make the trek through the typical terminal protocols, collapsing in their seats once they arrive at their gate. Even though the time still shows a number only the dead would be up at, there had been quite the line to trail after at the checkpoints, both blonds ready to pass out once again after they had settled down.

However, with Ann using his _lap_ as her pillow this time, Ryuji’s state of consciousness rises a little more than he would have liked. He rubs at the back of his neck again while peering down at her, looking up to catch glimpses of the curious stares from a few soon-to-be passengers.

He holds his face in his hand, wanting to wake her up but harboring none of the heart to do so. Her head on his shoulder had been an occasional but expected (and _appreciated_ ) level of closeness when it came to her toying with personal space, but this…  Its unexpected nature did nothing to quell the tumultuous thoughts that had run wild two days ago following her equally as wild flirtation. If each of these little moments had been setting the precedent for the rest of their trip—which literally had yet to get off the ground—he wasn’t sure he would be able to survive.

He hopes her agency has an emergency “sudden death” budget to ship back bodies.

 

* * *

 

Fifteen hours in the air had not been enjoyable for anyone.

The slog off the plane and to their taxi is a quiet venture, mild wonder on their faces despite their mental fatigue. The exhausted is useful for Ryuji, though; while he still maintained a level of internal distress, asking Ann about why she still insists on using him as a pillow even now is a question he can’t even form a coherent sentence for. He chooses instead to roll with the oddly peaceful atmosphere, a relative silence in the car even with the hustle and bustle of the city’s early afternoon filtering in.

He tries not to think too much about the content sigh the woman on his shoulder exhales, a smile on her face when he makes the grave mistake of glancing down at her. He is quick to flit his eyes elsewhere, nearly losing his nerve when their eyes locked.

He almost swears he hears another sigh from her, though much different in tone from the first. What for, he doesn’t know.

The process for checking in and heading up to their room is as short as it can possibly ( _thankfully_ ) be, his mind too worn out process key things about what their stay entails. He opts for the thing he had wanted to do since he stepped out of bed those many hours ago: with a kick of his shoes and the drop of his bag, he flops onto the only bed in the suite, out like a light as soon as his head hits the nearest pillow.

He deals with the consequences of his actions about eight hours later, waking up to see long blonde strands spanning out across the pillows to where his own head lies. An instinctive shock of alarm races through him, subdued only slightly once he realizes there’s a fair amount of space between them, her back facing him as well.

He takes this liminal moment to study what he can see while lying on his right side, though it one: isn’t much, and two: isn’t nearly as interesting or distracting as the girl lying across from him.

In a sleepy lapse of judgement, he gathers a few locks of her hair in his hands, leaning in to catch the scent as he lets them glide through his fingers. The feel brings a memory of a similar night of bedsharing, a memory that snaps him to attention in an instant, nearly scrambling off the bed as his face burns with guilt.

He hadn’t been caught in his odd act, but his own conscious serves to scold him as substitute.

Ann stirs from the shift in weight, groaning as her eyes flicker open. Lightly dazed, her eyes scan the room piece by piece, turning to her left side and waking up that tiny bit more when she catches sight of a significantly flustered Ryuji.

Much to his misfortune, she interprets the red on his face as his shame over merely sharing a bed.

Smirking, her eyes glint as she pats the still-warm spot in front of her. “You didn’t seem to care earlier when you passed out before I could even walk through the bedroom door. There’s only one bed in this suite, you know. I don’t mind sharing.”

She narrows her eyes at his furtive glance in the direction of the doorway, looking out into the kitchenette and living room. She glowers at his head while his back is turned, knowing he had spotted the couch in the corner when his tense shoulders slacken with respite.

Her scowl is replaced with a blank face, already anticipating the words that will follow once he faces her again. “… Sorry ‘bout that. There’s a couch over there, actually. I’ll just…”

He nabs a pillow from the bed, though he’s frozen stiff when her hand suddenly grabs his wrist. Tentatively, his eyes slowly trail their way to her face, confused by the soft look she gives him, her eyes having waited ages for their meeting. He holds with bated breath to hear what she has to say, but finds himself oddly disappointed with what comes out. “Ryuji… Y-Yeah. Sounds great, actually. Just wanted to tease you a little.”

The soft look wears out, a forced smile and a laugh that tries too hard to be real taking its place. Letting go of his wrist, she returns to her previous position, leaving the boy to stare at her back with yearning as she keeps her gaze trained on the window.

 

* * *

 

The hours-long shoots accompanying their adjustment to the new day and night cycle had left them with few words to exchange in the evenings before bed over the next two days. Though it had been Ann who had a defined job on this trip, Ryuji found himself being put to work as well, grinning—grimacing, really—and bearing it as he was sent on retrievals for this, that, and the other thing that the staff couldn’t be bothered to get themselves.

Their free time on the third day in is more than welcomed.

Ann flurries around their suite as she prepares for the day ahead, sweeping Ryuji up in her madness before he knows it. They are out the door in less than an hour, the dyed blonde blinking and realising he had somehow teleported from the inside of their suite to the outside of the hotel in that one flutter of his eyelids. The natural blonde grabbing his wrist and tugging him along “To breakfast!” doesn’t allow his brain that precious time to process what just happened. He straps in for what he knows will be a whirlwind of a day instead.

“God, _finally_ ,” he sighs as he takes the seat across from her at their table for two in a quaint café. “I didn’t think this modelling stuff was so much work! I thought they just snap a few photos somewhere and call it a day!”

She laughs lightly, holding her reply momentarily when the waitress comes by to ask about what they picked to drink. After requesting a little more time to look everything over, she turns back to him with a smile. “Didn’t think modelling could be so exhausting, did you? It’s harder when you’re not on a set or in a studio. Live locations can be a pain sometimes since you can’t control crowds or weather or anything, but the pictures tend to be worth the hassle.”

He thinks for a moment before he must concede in agreement; the few quick peeks he’d stolen of the final products had him mesmerized until he’d been called away to complete some other menial task.

“Yeah… Uh, Ann, I can’t… read the menu…” He props his forearms up against the edge of the table, staring blankly at the laminated sheets of paper bound together, recognizing only a few words printed on the pages. He pouts when he hears her laugh again, though it levels out once she places her own menu down and points to certain sections, easily translating for him. With her help as the middle man, ordering their breakfast runs rather smoothly, Ryuji thanking her for the help.

“No, thank _you_. Thank you for coming with me, Ryuji. It means a lot that you’re here. I think even the staff appreciates the extra hand.” She snickers when he glares at her, both knowing full well that he isn’t exactly doing so willingly.

“Not like I gotta choice,” he grumbles, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t think they’d let me stay if I didn’t. But it’s worth it since I get to see your pictures at the end of the day—uh… I-I mean…”

He scratches his cheek nervously when that eyebrow of hers quirks yet again, not noticing the return of that same smirk from Yongen since he’d become more preoccupied with the art hanging from the walls. He considers saving face by doubling back and saying he’d meant seeing ‘ _the_ ’ pictures (of all the models) and not ‘ _your_ ’ pictures (of just Ann), but for some reason, it only sounded like a further admission of perversion and shame. He ultimately decides to leave the awkward silence where it is, a decision he rarely ever makes.

The return of his beacon of reprieve—that is, the waitress—has him exhaling with obvious relief, though he glares at Ann once again when faced with her body shaking in her attempt to suppress her laughter. His rebuttal is weak, a huffed “It wasn’t _that_ funny” only goading more giggles from her.

If he wasn’t going to pick up what she was putting down, at least she could find amusement in the way he fumbled with what was right in front of him.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, his self-imposed embarrassment in the café had not been the highlight of her day.

As planned, they venture into a countless number of shops, the model sneaking candids of her companion, “deleting” the ones he’d caught her snapping (and totally saving them once he’d returned to his wonder-filled browsing). And though they’d walked into one shop after another, she had only purchased one or two souvenirs, deciding she would save that monumental task for another day, or at least later _in_ the day anyway.

To his surprise, she mostly had them seeing the sights within Manhattan—his pronunciation of which had her cackling from his clumsy tongue blundering the complexities of the English language. And while he’d complained about having to visit a _museum_ of all things, the MoMA had served to be far more interesting than anticipated.

The Rockefeller Center had been a sight to behold as well, the pair thoroughly puzzled by the placement of a church so clearly out of place amongst the high-rises; Ann had been thankful for her ability to feign a lack of English comprehension when a monk from said church approached her about the possibility of attending a service.

She records his shock when she takes him to a Japanese restaurant for lunch, laughing when Akira reminds her that he had reacted the same way in Hawaii when she sends it to the group chat. She snorts in amusement when he expresses his appreciation for finally being able to speak to the waitstaff himself and read the menu on his own, both grateful for the momentary semblance of home in a city far from it.

New York hadn’t been _too_ unfamiliar, however; the subways aren’t nearly as punctual, and the city grid varies from their own, but its fast pace and busy streets are akin to that of the city they were from.

They begin their evening in Central Park, her companion snapping the candid this time when Ann’s face lights up with awe at the appearance of fireflies. Hearing the shutter, she wrestles with him for the phone, but he successfully stumbles through the correct order of phone taps to send the picture to the group chat (he hadn’t thought he’d be so grateful for his mother paying for the _expensive_ international data despite his insistence that she not).

“You dick! I can’t believe you sent that to everyone!”

“Oh, so it’s only okay when you do it?” He snorts, shit-eating grin spreading across his face when she hands it back. His grin goes gentle when he sees she hadn’t deleted it after all, stare wistful as he keeps his eyes trained on the screen. “’Sides, this is a really pretty picture of ya.”

He doesn’t realise he’d said that latter half a little louder and more tenderly than he’d intended until he sees that same stupidly smug smirk on her face when he looks up. His face burns with his mortification and his rebuttal is hot on his tongue… but even in the dimming light, he notices the edge on _this_ smirk is absent.

For the few seconds that his eyes hold hers, he sees that her cheeks are stained red, just like his.

When his face contorts with his curiosity, she realises she herself had been caught, shyly looking away as her eyes race to find something far more interesting in the grass. “Th-There’s,” she clears her throat to hide her stammer, “there’s one more place I wanna go before we head back. You up for it?” Praying her blush had receded by now, she peeks up at him through her lashes, grinning at him when she catches his nod. “Great!”

With a hand to his wrist like before, they take a short subway ride to the place she’d avoided all day, saving the best for last: Times Square. The warmth of her smile matches that of the humidity around them as she watches his eyes go wide, mystified by the dazzling lights dancing on storefronts. The presentation is similar to Shibuya’s, but still so meaningfully different. “Wh-Whoa…”

“Ryuji! You’re blocking the way!” She giggles under her breath as she lightly shoves him forward before grabbing his hand this time. “So do you wanna see what there is to see or are you just gonna stand here all night?”

Whatever his choice may have been, she never gives him the chance to pick; Ann’s trek through Times Square with him commands the entirety of his attention. He focuses solely on their held hands, more than ready to slide his hand from hers, but with a jostle and a tug from the crowd that threatens to pull them apart, he tightens his grip instead.

He feels that she reaffirms her own as well.

They shuffled in and out of the surrounding shops, dyed blond conducting personal store sight-seeing sessions as natural blonde converses with cashiers. He pays a little more attention to one conversation in particular while she checks out at the H&M store; his understanding of English is appallingly limited, but the tone of their discussion is one he knows _too_ well.

Ann had exhibited similar behaviours to him all day: leaning in close, strategically placed winks, “accidental” brushes of fingers when they pass each other things. And while he knows she’d been doing all of that to mess with him, it’s clear to him that the cashier uses these tactics with conviction. From over her shoulder, he glowers at the other man, eyes narrowing when his displeasure is duly noted.

Though Ryuji’s actions aid her, they hadn’t been necessary at all. While she smiles at the man as he hands her the bag, it expresses anger and murderous intent rather than the joy it was typically used for. “Thanks, you too!” she chirps politely after he wishes her a good night, though its jagged edges do not go unnoticed by anyone in the vicinity.

“You okay? What did he say?” Ryuji asks as they leave; he easily keeps up with her brisk pace, but its level of urgency to escape surprises him—he can’t help but shoot a piercing glare meant to kill over his shoulder at the offender right before they push through the door.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” Even though her anger is still incredibly palpable, he doesn’t press for details, merely taking her hand in his again before she decides to brave the crowd again. He catches her smiling down at the contact; he flounders for something to say when she looks up at him, the curve of her lips staying in place. She mercifully fills their noisy silence for him. “Thank you for coming with me, Ryuji.”

The repetition of what she’d said that morning carries far more weight than it had the first time.

He kicks himself mentally for missing the opportunity to say something— _anything_ —when she breaks the trance between them, heading off to whatever store she’d wanted to peruse next. The surrounding sights distract him just a bit from his disastrous inability to take advantage of a mood. He’s convinced that it’s clearly all in his head, but this trip with her practically _screams_ at him to take his one and only golden, glittering chance to tell her about how he truly feels—and maybe, _just maybe_ , she’d express some level of reciprocation.

But here he is, letting chances just slip through his fingers one after the other. Belatedly, of course, he’d realised that their moment in Central Park had been yet another of those missed opportunities, having to deflect her question when he’d audibly groaned at his own stupidity in the subway car.

‘ _Stop fucking up. Just say it already_.’

He stews on this as another two hours go by in their self-headed tour of Times Square, seeing and experiencing only a portion of what the area alone had to offer. “Phew! Let’s call it a day, huh?” she asks as she checks her phone, the time reading a little past 23:00. They stop by the row of stands facing away from the column of screens, far too many people seated on them for the pair to rest as well. “I’m glad we get four more days of free-time… there’s so much I wanna do before we go!” She grins as she looks around, illuminated by the stars below that shine for the obscured ones up above.

“Y-Yeah… there’s way too much… to do around here…” Spellbound by the twinkle in her eyes, he steps in a little closer, expression showing his uncertainty but determination as he stares down at her and nothing else. When he pulls his hand from hers and finds purchase on her hips instead, he knows it’s all or nothing from this point on.

She finally brings her attention to him, sensing fervent eyes and straying hands, shocked that they’d come from the one person she’d expected the least. She can’t quite decipher his expression, rapidly trying to recall where she’d seen this exact look once before. Her eyes widen with recognition when it hits her—though the memory in her head replays with blurred edges, his face in it is as clear as the day it’d happened. It was the night they’d shared; her drunken faux pas.

He kisses her.

Ann gasps the moment their lips touch, though her surprise lasts for that moment and that moment only. ‘ _Finally. **Finally!**_ ’ is the only thought that bounces around as she wraps her arms around his neck, the word permeating every corner.

He pulls away completely a few seconds later once he hears a whistle and some light applause, bashful in front of the audience they’d apparently accrued. She laughs instead, taking hold of his arms to return them to their place around her waist, her own returning to their home around his neck. Spotting his trepidation, she shakes her head, leaving a peck on his cheek to let him know she enjoys their arrangement and doesn’t care for anyone who insists on watching.

Through his embarrassment, he returns her smile, body no longer stiff once he receives her reassurances. “You’ve got no idea how long I been waitin’ to do that,” he murmurs, pulling one hand away to rub at the back of his neck.

Chortling, she stops his nervous tic, taking his hand to place it where it belongs once again. “And _you’ve_ got no idea how long I’ve been waiting _for_ you to do that. If you hadn’t, I probably would’ve done it myself, honestly. You’re _really_ bad at taking a hint.”

It’s his turn to laugh, though it’s softer than any of her prior ones. “Guess I really am that dense, huh?”

“Oh, don’t get me started! But lucky for you, I was more than happy to spell it out for you. I’m glad you beat met to the punch just this once, though. You should try to do that more often. Might get you something good again.”

Her resounding laughter garners the attention of a few patrons nearby, Ryuji left flustering from that devious wink she gives to him yet again.

 

* * *

 

They pick up a quick bite to eat for dinner before they head back to the hotel, putting away their spoils from the day after finishing their meals. A moment of stillness befalls them as they face each other once their suitcases are tucked away; for once, Ryuji is the first to break it. “I’m gonna…” He fights through his anxiety, wordlessly plucking his pillow and blanket from the couch and tossing it onto the bed, letting his actions speak for him.

He relaxes when she merely takes a seat on the bed, flourishing her hand in the direction of where he’d lied once before, inviting him to take it again. Her eyes glint as he settles in, allowing him to drop his guard for a few minutes as he watches TV, half-understanding what the actors are doing.

It had taken no coaxing at all to get him to join her on the bed, but it was clear that that was where his forwardness ended. She guffawed when his expression became laced with concern after she sets one dainty hand on his thigh, much like the one he’d worn on their trip to the beach when she’d grabbed his arm. He stammers as it trails higher, hyper-focusing on the screen in front of them. “I-I, uh… The couch ain’t actually comfy at a-all… I figured I could sleep here now since… I d-didn’t think you’d also…”

“So oblivious,” she mutters, sliding over to straddle his lap. She studies him carefully as she makes a point to settle herself right where it matters most. Though she grins internally at the feel of what slowly rises to the occasion, she can tell there’s an obvious level of anxiety about him regarding it, even though he hadn’t verbally or wordlessly expressed dissatisfaction or disapproval. “I told you the very first night we were here that you could share the bed with me. And don’t act like you didn’t expect something like this would happen.”

“I j-just…! I thought you were t-teasin’ me like always!” His breath hitches with each stammer from the glide of her fingers across his stomach. “A-And I thought I was just… makin’ things up in my head. Didn’t wanna risk anything after… _that night_ …”

She pauses in her ministrations, shirt bunched up and lifted halfway off his chest. “… Right. I feel there’s something I should explain, actually.” She motions with her chin for him to lift his arms, tossing the shirt to its new home on the floor once he acquiesces.

She leans in, lifting his chin up and to the side with the tip of her nose, nipping at his skin. “It wasn’t exactly the… _smartest_ plan… but I wanted that to happen. I thought being drunk would make things easier. It did, but… well, we both know how that worked out.”

“Wait. Stop.”

She pulls away from him immediately, sliding her hips back to let him know she is more than willing to end everything if he said the word. Her eyes trace the way his chest slows in its previously rapid rise and fall, knowing he’d needed a moment to collect his thoughts.

“You… You mean all of that was on _purpose_?”

She hears the mixture of emotions in his question: frustration, irritation, anguish; peace, elation, _relief_. The one that stood out the most, however, was disbelief. Disbelief that she would plan something like that, that she would even _do_ such a thing, that she would have wanted that, and _him_ , the whole time.

And here she was in his lap once again, still wanting— **having** —him.

“Like I said, it was a dumb plan after everything that happened, so I’m sorry for—” She gets cut off by his insistent kiss, gladly taking what gives her. When she finds her hips being grabbed and pulled back to where they’d once been, she continues where she left off, breaking their kiss.

“So it’s… it’s okay that we had sex that night?” His body and breath jerk and shudder as she takes her right hand and lightly drags her nails down the center of his chest.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her right hand joins her left at the fly to his capris, smirking against his neck when she can feel the rise and fall of his chest hasten the way it had before. “I kinda just did what I wanted. I know you were more concerned about how drunk I was, but I kinda just coaxed you. Actually, you tried to stop me for most of it.”

“I wanted it. You know I wanted it the whole time— _why’d we wait until now to talk about this_? Why didn’t we do this at home…?”

She pauses a second time when he cuts off his rambling with his own breathy questions. Though clearly exasperated in her sigh, she laughs as she palms her face.

Well, better late than never.

 

* * *

 [ **Teach me how to dance, Carmen.** ]

[ _With great pleasure, Captain._ ]

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **I'M DONE**  
>  _I'M DONE_  
>  IT'S DONE  
>  ** _GOOD GOD_**
> 
> ahem.
> 
> I myself wasn't in NY very long {I went in October for NYCC} but it was... An Experience (TM) so this is partially based off of what I saw while there {didn't do like _any_ of the typical "touristy" things lmao} but prolly a lil off since I went in the fall and not the summer :T
> 
> funny enough, I've always intended for them to go to NY even before I myself went so taking this long to finish this damn thing worked out a lot better than it should have lol
> 
> real talk tho I still feel like even with how long this is it's kinda... _weak_? mmmmmm that's what happens when you let yourself get rusty, Kim
> 
> anyhow now that this is the end, I'd like to thank any of you who've been waiting for this for sticking it out til the end lol  
> ty for putting up with such an inconsistent author such as I [bows many times]
> 
>  
> 
> [personal twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lesimperatrices)  
> 


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